


Gabrielle Cherrier vs the World

by incorrectpsb



Category: Prep School Blues (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 05:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16570601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incorrectpsb/pseuds/incorrectpsb
Summary: Gabrielle gets a job in a toy store, but quickly finds that retail doesn't quite suit her, and that the customers suit her even less.





	Gabrielle Cherrier vs the World

Larsen’s Cadillac pulled up outside of The Toy Box, and Gabby climbed out of the car.

“Have fun, sweetie,” he said, his voice high pitched and mocking as an imitation of a typical suburban mother.

Gabby was too distracted by thoughts of what her first day working at a toy store would be like to come up with a witty retort. “Yeah, I guess I will.”

Fareed piped up from the back seat. “First days are always fun!”

“Yeah, but this is retail,” said Larsen with an unironic shudder, pulling out his whiskey flask.

Gabby shrugged. “Can’t be that difficult.”

Larsen choked on his whiskey.

“What?” Gabby said, raising an eyebrow.

Larsen tried desperately to suppress his laughter. “N-nothing. You go… enjoy yourself.”

Gabby rolled her eyes, waving him and Fareed goodbye and shutting the door behind her. She wasn’t going to let Larsen psych her out. 

Larsen turned to Fareed, traces of amusement still on his face. “Okay, I want more whiskey, get in the driver’s seat.”

Fareed grimaced. “Maybe we should wait for her. I’m not sure she’s going to last long, honestly.”

Larsen laughed nervously. “Good call.”

*

Oh God this is cheesy, thought Gabby as she walked through an endless maze of bright colours, sales assistants with creepily constant smiles and screaming children. She hadn’t realised before just how loud screaming children were until she found herself amongst a choir of them. It was… piercing, to say the least.

She made her way to the staff room, where her new boss had asked her to wait for her induction training. She found a comfortable looking blue chair and made herself at home on it, surveying her surroundings.

Gabby couldn’t help but feel that the interior decorator in this place should be shot. Each wall was a different colour, the gaudiest shade of yellow reserved for the “Friendship Wall”, which consisted of a photograph of each staff member, their full name and their mobile phone number. That HAD to be a violation of the Data Protection Act.

In the middle of the Friendship Wall was a note written in glittery gel pen that read: “next Team Bonding Dinner: Tuesday 7pm!”.

Oh no. That was tomorrow. Gabby very nearly threw up in her mouth a little. Judging by the overly wholesome décor she was surrounded by, the team bonding would not involve getting spectacularly drunk, the only kind team bonding she was remotely interested in.

A redhead skipped into the room wearing a toothy grin and a big gold badge that said “Christine - Manager”. She looked eerily similar to Gabby. Gabby saw her future and it was bleak.

“Gabrielle! Nice to finally meet you!” Christine gave Gabby a vigorous, enthusiastic handshake. Gabby smiled and tried her best to hide how much she was regretting every single life choice she had ever made that led her here.

“I’m Christine, you can call me Chrissy! Heck, you can call me ‘mom’!”

That last bit made Gabby not even want to call her Chrissy. Mrs Manager would do.

“Welcome to the Toy Box family, Gabrielle! Unless there’s another name you’d prefer to be called?”

There was, she preferred Gabby. But upon remembering how short the distance between ‘Chrissy’ and ‘mom’ seemed to be, she carefully shook her head.

“Here’s a key to your locker, you’ll find your uniform in there!” Christine pressed a small key with a bronze keyring showing the number 9 on it into Gabby’s hand. “Come find me afterwards and we’ll go over fire safety regulations, general tips and tricks of the trade, what to do if a customer threatens you at gunpoint, that kind of thing!”

“Wait, what, has that happened in here before—?”

“Go on, time’s a wasting!” Christine ushered Gabby out of the staff room, her big toothy grin showing no signs of going anywhere, and shut the door behind her. Gabby, stunned, slowly walked to the locker room, on her guard in case any more overly excited employees wanted to welcome her to hell.

*

The uniform wasn’t too bad, actually: it just consisted of a t-shirt with “The Toy Box” on it, Gabby didn’t even need to change out of her skirt. Christine had asked her to wear trousers for her next shift, though. Gabby had sensed Christine was trying to be nice about it but upon seeing Gabby’s miniskirt, Christine’s eyes looked downright murderous. The sheer contrast between that Christine and the Christine encouraging Gabby to call her ‘mom’ was alarming.

Christine’s fire safety, tricks of the trade and ‘How to Avoid Being Shot By a Customer’ talk had been relatively short and sweet, with Christine insisting that a smart little girl like Gabby would be more than able to pick things up as she went along. Gabby would have preferred a more thorough review of information that could have potentially made a difference between life and death, but she felt that every second spent with Christine shaved at least a year off her remaining lifespan.

After the talk had concluded, Christine sent Gabby out to the shop floor with a walkie talkie to help her in times of need. She wouldn’t be working the tills or stock deliveries yet, she would just be assisting any customers that approached her for help. Gabby gritted her teeth and walked out of the staff only area into no man’s land. She could do this.

The first customer to approach her was a disgruntled looking elderly man clutching a remote control car. One of Christine’s tricks of the trade was to always smile, so when this man approached her, Gabby put on the widest smile she could muster. He looked terrified in response.

“Oh, um, hello,” he said, showing no signs of cheering up. “How much is this?”

Gabby took the walkie talkie she had been given by Christine and repeated the customer’s question.

A cheery voice got back to her a few seconds later. “It should be on the top left corner of the product: if not just scan it on a till point!”

Surely the customer had checked to see if the price was already there. Surely. Gabby took the remote control car from the customer’s hands and inspected the top left corner of the box. The price was right there. 

“It’s… right… here,” Gabby said, slowly and confused, pointing a finger to a yellow label that showed the price was $25.

“Oh, didn’t even look,” said the customer, shrugging. He attempted to take the car back but Gabby held it out of his reach.

“You didn’t look,” she repeated under her breath. “You didn’t look… and instead came to me… so I would look for you…”

Jesus Christ, and people had the nerve to call her lazy.

The customer stammered as he spoke; he hadn’t been expecting this. “W-Well… now see here young lady, I just thought”—

“You just THOUGHT that because I’m in a uniform, I’m your personal slave?!” she shrieked, thankfully not catching anyone’s attention given how loud it already was in The Toy Box. She shoved the remote control back into the man’s frail arms and stomped off. He watched her leave, his eyes wide with shock. “Do something for yourself, you lazy douchebag! And don’t call me young lady!”

Gabby marched over to the other side of the store, as if hoping the customers on this side wouldn’t be as dumb as the man over there. Her hopes let her down as an angry young woman approached her.

“The prices in here are RIDICULOUS!” snapped the woman. Gabby didn’t flinch. “I’ve found at least three things in here that are much cheaper in Walmart!”

Gabby blinked. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that information.”

The young woman looked appalled. “Excuse me?! All I’m SAYING is”—

“Lady, look at me. Really look,” said Gabby. “I’m clearly like 16, why the hell do you think I have any say over the prices?”

“I’m not saying you do!” the customer growled. “I’m just saying the prices are ridiculous!”

“You’re in a toy store, full of luxury items,” said Gabrielle, matter-of-factly. “It’s not like you need anything in here to survive, you’re not forced to shop here.”

“I want to speak to your manager right now!” The woman’s face was turning red with fury.

“You really don’t, you know,” grumbled Gabby, sauntering off once more.

She sighed. It had been twenty minutes, and already these guys were getting on her nerves. She had expected the kids to be bratty, not the adults.

As she wandered, several people pushed past her as they browsed. It was really starting to annoy her. It was like the uniform deprived her of her identity, and she wasn’t even a person to these customers. Is this what she was like when she went shopping? Was everyone really capable of being this insufferable once they became customers?

After another hour of customers making all sorts of demands towards Gabby – direct them to till points that were right behind them, let them into the staff toilets because they were too lazy to go to the next door café and use the toilets in there, give them discounts on items they deemed to be too expensive – and Gabby decidedly refusing every single one, a woman in a t-shirt that matched Gabby’s approached her. She thankfully also had a sympathetic, friendly smile that didn’t match Christine’s condescending one.

“Hey, newbie,” she said, as if she was about to break some bad news to Gabby. “So, I hear you’re not getting on great with our customers.”

“They’re AWFUL,” huffed Gabby. “God, I wish I could let them know how I really feel.”

The woman looked taken aback. “Um… this isn’t letting them know how you really feel?”

Gabby chortled. “Oh believe me, this barely scratches the fucking surface.”

The woman suddenly flinched like Gabby had hit her.

Gabby sighed. “God, what now?”

“Sorry, it’s just… you can’t swear in here.”

“I have to listen to these kids scream bloody murder”—Gabby leaned forward slightly to read the other employee’s name tag—“Vanessa, so they get to hear me swear.”

Vanessa looked like she was amused, but not allowed to show it. “Okay, Gabrielle. If you’re sure.”

It dawned on Gabby that perhaps Vanessa had all these very same thoughts about customers, but couldn’t express them because she really needed to keep this job. Oh God, Gabby just wanted to take Vanessa out of this pit of vultures.

As Vanessa walked away, Gabby felt a tap on her shoulder. A middle aged gentleman was giving her a blank stare and held up his basket.

“Where can I pay?”

Gabby was about to deliver a biting remark telling him to try one of the many cash desks within plain sight, but upon remembering Vanessa’s cool charm in the face of adversity, thought better of it.

“Just over there, sir,” she said politely, smiling the most natural smile she had all day.

The man leaned towards her, winked and whispered, “thanks babe”.

“NOPE.”

That was the final straw, it would seem. Gabby had never mistaken halfway decent customer service for flirting, but apparently some people out there were dumb enough to. It was too much, she had decided. She prayed a silent prayer for all the lost souls she’d be leaving behind, took a huge breath and yelled—

“HEY EVERYBODY. I QUIT. BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL ASSHOLES.”

Gabby began to dart to the locker room, and looked down at her t-shirt. Oh God she hated the sight of it. She didn’t want to be an employee here a minute longer.

Without a second thought, she pulled the t-shirt over her head in one fluid motion, revealing her black lacy bra as she marched off. She heard at least three different old women screaming in shock.

Just as she reached the staff room, she saw another crying child. Oh. My. God. There were people dying of hunger and terminal illnesses and all sorts. She could not handle one more screaming child.

“KID,” she grabbed the child by the shoulders. “GET SOME REAL PROBLEMS. I AM BEGGING YOU.”

And before Christine, Vanessa, or indeed the crying child’s parents could say anything to her, Gabby had bolted into the locker room, changed into her own clothes and ran out the door of The Toy Box, where she assumed a lifetime ban was in place for her.

Gabby climbed in the back seat of the Cadillac, where she appeared to have interrupted a conversation Fareed and Larsen were having about video games.

“DRIVE,” Gabby yelled, making them both jump. Fareed immediately stepped on it.

“We are never coming back here,” Gabby demanded. “We are never coming within five hundred yards of here. Ever again.”

“Gabby, this is en route to school”—

“THEN I’M NEVER GOING BACK TO SCHOOL.”

Larsen laughed the entire ride home. The world of retail, customer service and constant forced smiles no matter what was apparently not ready for the brutal honesty of Gabrielle Cherrier.


End file.
